CHAPTER XXXVI.
The Fate of Hare—Mrs. Hare in Glasgow—Rescued from the Mob—Her Escape to Ireland, and Subsequent Career—Helen M‘Dougal—Burke’s Wife in Ireland.
In a previous chapter the escape of Hare from Scotland, and the stirring events that accompanied it, have been minutely described. What became of him after that is not really known—he dropped out of sight as rapidly as he had emerged into public ken. Long afterwards it was stated that an old white-haired blind man, led by a dog, was in the habit of frequenting one of the busiest corners in London, begging from the passers-by, and this poor unfortunate was identified as Hare. The statement, however, was made on no definite authority. Again, some twenty years ago a London newspaper gave currency to a statement that Hare had died shortly before in Canada, whither he had found refuge; but whether the fact was as given to the public was never authoritatively known. If it were the case, he would at the time of death be a man of between sixty and seventy years of age. But while he thus escaped from the scene of his crimes to some land where he was unknown, the memory of his deeds impressed itself strongly on the minds of the people of Scotland, and there was a tendency to blame him and his wretched accomplices with offences of which it must be assumed they were innocent. Thus, in the Edinburgh Evening Courant of the 14th of February, 1829, it was stated that an investigation was then going on in the city relative to a murder committed some time before in Shields, the manner being similar to that adopted by the West Port experts. The object of the inquiry was said to be to ascertain whether Hare or Burke were in or out of Edinburgh at the time the crime was committed. It was even rumoured that Hare had been apprehended in Newcastle on a charge of being concerned in the deed; but this was not the case, and it would seem as if nothing came of the inquiry in Edinburgh, for no further mention is made of it.
As for Mrs. Hare, we must go back a little, and trace her liberation and the adventures through which she had to go before she left the country. She was detained in custody for some time after the trial, for, of course, it would have been unwise and unsafe for the authorities to have risked her life at the mercy of an excited and unreasoning mob. On Monday, the 26th of January, two days before the execution of Burke, she was liberated from Calton Hill Jail. Unfortunately for her, she was recognised while crossing the bridges, and an immense crowd gathered round her. The day was convenient for people showing their ill-feeling in a comparatively mild way, for the streets were under a thick covering of snow. Once the cry of recognition was raised, she was pelted by heavy volleys of snowballs, and only a feeling of sympathy for the child the woman carried in her arms prevented the mob from proceeding to more extreme measures. The police interfered, and for safety took Mrs. Hare to the lock-up, where she remained until the evening. As twilight was coming over the city she slipped out of the office, and left Edinburgh.
What became of Mrs. Hare and her helpless infant during the next fortnight is not known, but nothing was heard of her until the Glasgow Chronicle of Tuesday, 10th February, announced that on that day she had been rescued by the police from the fury of a Glasgow mob. She must have travelled on foot between the two cities, a weary, miserable pilgrimage, avoiding discovery, and often sleeping by roadsides and hayricks, with the inevitable feeling of a misspent, if not a criminal life. The Chronicle, speaking of her, spoke of her as “the celebrated Mrs. Hare,” and stated that the Calton (Glasgow) police had to lodge her in a police cell to save her and her child from an infuriated populace. Her statement was that she had been lodging in the Calton for four nights, “with her infant and her bit duds,” and that those with whom she resided were not aware of her identity. She had managed so well thus far that she had hoped to be able to leave Glasgow without detection. In order to ensure this she had been in the habit of keeping the house during the day, and occasionally in the early morning, or in the twilight, she had ventured to the Broomielaw, to see when a vessel would be ready to sail for Ireland, whither she hoped to be taken. Hitherto she had been disappointed. She had gone out that morning with the same object, and while returning to her lodgings by way of Clyde Street, she was recognised by a drunken woman, who shouted out—“Hare’s wife; burke her!” and set the example to the large crowd that rapidly gathered by throwing a large stone at the unfortunate woman. The people were not slow to set upon Mrs. Hare, and heaped upon her every indignity they could imagine. She escaped from her persecutors, and fled into the Calton, but she was pursued there, and was experiencing very rough treatment when the police rescued her. In the station-house she seemed to be completely overcome, and occasionally bursting into tears she bewailed her unhappy situation, which she declared had been brought about by Hare’s profligacy. All she desired, she told her listeners, was to get across the channel to Ireland, where she hoped to end her days in some remote spot near her native place, where she would live in retirement and penitence. As for Hare, she would never live with him again.
Owing to the threatening attitude of the populace, the authorities saw they must themselves devise means for Mrs. Hare’s safe removal to Ireland. On the afternoon of her rescue an immense crowd surrounded the police office expecting to see her depart, but it was feared that the spirit of riot might again break forth with renewed vigour. She was detained in custody until Thursday, the 12th of February, when she sailed from the Broomielaw in the steamer Fingal, for Belfast, which port was not far from her native place. Like her husband, in his escape from Dumfries, she had to leave the country without her bundle of clothing, which had gone astray when the people attacked her on the streets. While the Fingal lay at Greenock to take in cargo, Mrs. Hare was under the guardianship of the local police, and it was to but a few that she was known to have been in the town until after her departure.
Mrs. Hare thus arrived in Ireland, and all definite traces of her were lost. Leighton, however, obtained some information which probably relates to this unfortunate woman. Writing in 1861, the author of The Court of Cacus says:—“Not long ago, we were told by a lady who was in Paris about the year 1850, that, having occasion for a nurse, she employed a woman, apparently between sixty and seventy years of age. She gave her name as Mrs. Hare, and upon being questioned whether she had been ever in Scotland, she denied it, stating that she came from Ireland. Yet she often sung Scotch songs; and what brings out the suspicion that she was the real Mrs. Hare the more is, that she had a daughter, whose age, over thirty, agrees perfectly with that of the infant she had in her arms when in court. In addition to all this, the woman’s face was just that of the picture published at the time.”
Helen M‘Dougal was no more fortunate in her treatment by the populace. Mention has already been made of the riot that followed her liberation, and it has also been stated that she was seen out of Edinburgh by the police. She returned and offered to supply the Lord Advocate with information that would hang Hare, and probably among her statements was the story that was said to have been told by her after Burke’s execution. Burke and Hare were one night drinking heavily, and in the course of a discussion on their prospects with the doctors, the former asked his companion—“What will we do when we can get no more bodies?” Hare coolly replied—“We can never be absolutely at a loss while our two wives remain, but that will only be when we are hard up.” This was overheard by one of the women, and is another particle of evidence showing they were not so ignorant of the desperate nature of the enterprise engaged in by the men. When M‘Dougal finally left Edinburgh she went towards the home of her relatives in Stirlingshire, but they would having nothing to do with her, and drove her away. She sought an asylum in the neighbourhood of Carnworth, but she was recognised and roughly treated; and again at Newbigging she had to run the gauntlet of an infuriated mob. Towards the end of January, 1829, a woman was severely abused in Lanark under the idea that she was M‘Dougal, and the mistake was only discovered after she had been severely injured. The unfortunate person turned out to be a woman recently arrived from Fort-William. About the beginning of February, M‘Dougal passed through Newcastle, on her way south. The police ordered her out of the town, and escorted her to the Blue Stone, which stood on the centre of the Tyne Bridge, marking the boundary between the counties of Northumberland and Durham, and there she was saluted by execrations and showers of stones from the populace of Gateshead. What became of her after this is unknown, but long ere now she must have gone to her account.
But perhaps there is no more affecting part of the terrible story of the West Port murders than is discovered by a letter received by an Edinburgh gentleman from the Rev. Anthony Corcoran, Roman Catholic curate at Kilmore, May, near Ballina. This gentleman had written to Ireland requesting the clergyman to make inquiries regarding Burke’s wife. Mr. Corcoran sent the following reply, dated 26th January, 1829:—“I have minutely inquired into the conduct of the unfortunate Bourke, and I feel much pleasure in assuring you that there was not a blot on his character for the time he lived in Ballina. After the receipt of your letter, I sent for Margaret Coleman, Bourke’s wife, to whom I communicated the sad news of the awful death that awaited her ill-fated husband. She was prepared for the shock for some time. She was acquainted with her husband’s criminal intercourse with the notorious M‘Dougal. I fear that the companions of his travels from this country were his companions in blood in Scotland, and that every religious impression is blotted from their minds.”